Gohan: A Legacy
by KnightLyte
Summary: This is the story of Gohan; a narration of the life and adventures of a man not completely of this world. Struck by great tragedy as a child, he overcame his grief and persevered, going on to change the very fate of the universe itself. Taken in by his father's best friend and fiercest rival, Gohan grows in leaps and bounds, destined to do great things. Gh/V
1. Prologue

**Gohan: A Legacy  
**

**Prologue**

The loud pattering of raindrops echoed heavily on the roof of the domed building as rough winds whistled through the surrounding treetops. Like the pounding of drums, thunder boomed in the distance, shaking the earth with its mighty roar and lightning danced across the sky. Stormy gray clouds hung about, like a dark shadow over the world that promised to never let the light of the sun in again. It was dangerous weather to be in, and yet…

Despite the destruction, one lone figure dared to brave its wrath…

Son Gohan stood frozen to his spot, just steps outside his childhood home. Barely a decade of his life had passed and yet he had seen more and done more than any man double—even triple—his age. The feelings of anger, abandonment, and gut-wrenching sorrow that welled within him were only comparable to the stormy weather that raged about him; chaotic, turbulent… raw and self-destructive.

His coal black eyes settled on the top left window—_his_ window—and for a second, he could imagine himself jumping out of it, his father in tow, while his mother shouted for them to stop goofing off. How long had it been since he had been that carefree? That innocent… that naïve. How foolish he had been to believe that their peaceful life as a family would never come to an end…

First his father…. The man he had grown up idolizing; gone. _Dead_. Because of his own selfish mistake. His arrogance… his weakness… it all led to the ultimate failure. His fists clenched at the thought, the force of his grip so strong that it dug his fingernails into the skin, piercing his palms and causing a steady stream of bright red blood to flow.

Then there was his grandfather; the giant of a man taken down by the smallest of things—a tumor, in his head; no larger than the size of a quarter, and yet it had caused heavy pressure against the elderly king's brain. Surgery was necessary, and although the doctors tried their best, it was not enough to save him.

Finally, his mother… the combined grief of losing both her husband and father in such a short span of time had been too much for her to bear. Her last days on earth were spent locked in the bedroom, sobbing loudly for all the world to hear. But when she passed, she went silently—in her sleep—her body exhausted as her will to live faded away.

That had been one month ago.

Now… he was all alone.

Of course, Bulma had begged for him to come live with them, insisting that she had always seen him as a second son. But he had refused… he didn't want her pity. He didn't need another reminder that he was no longer part of his own family… just an addition to another.

After the funeral, he had flown off, living off the land and isolating himself as much as possible. He had made a shelter for himself in a cave, hidden deep within the rocky mountains that surrounded the valley, and spent his days staring blankly into the crackling flames of his campfire. He ate rarely and slept even less. Today, however, something inside of him seemed to snap. For the first time in weeks, he utilized his ki—which he had been suppressing—and flown straight back home.

He didn't know why he was there, only that the urge to return was so unbearably strong. As his eyes roamed over the curved shape of its roof, his fists clenched impossibly tighter, as his head was assaulted by an onslaught of memories—memories that, for the past month, he had been trying desperately to forget.

As he closed his eyes, he could still hear his mother's loud, shrilly voice, reminding him to finish his work while his father quietly goaded him to join him outside. He remembered the hours spent pouring over books, his mom coming in every so often with a snack as reward, and the lazy days spent fishing with his dad by the river. He would give anything to have that life back…

_'But you can't. It's over,'_ he told himself, body quivering with every sob as he finally allowed himself to cry. _'It's over; they're gone. They're not coming back…'_

Throwing back his head, Gohan gave into his grief and released a deafening shout towards the heavens. Ignited by fury, his ki exploded, quickly turning a brilliant shade of gold as bolts of electricity flashed around his tiny frame. He screamed louder and louder, the ground beneath him beginning to cave beneath the sheer pressure of his power. A spider web of cracks formed at his feet, splintering apart as the earth shook violently, dirt and debris sent skyward where they were disintegrated by the flame of his ki.

"Why?" he cried, gritting his teeth before unleashing another heartbroken scream, his ki pulsing wildly. "Why! It isn't fair!" Tears, mixed with rain, blurred his vision.

His watery stare landed on the house… and suddenly, he just couldn't stand the sight of it. It was taunting him… its cheery exterior inviting him in; inviting him to join a life that no longer existed. His features contorted into a look of extreme pain as he crouched sideways and twisted his hips, cupping his hands by his sides…

"Ka… m-me… ha… me…" His voice cracked as he chanted the ever familiar phrase. Blinding blue light radiated from between his palms, growing brighter as he charged the attack. That life was over…

… The blue orb steadily grew larger…

_'… No! What am I doing?'_ he panicked, realizing what he was about to do. _'No! I-I can't… I can't destroy it! It's all I have left of them!' _Despite his reasoning, it was as if his mind and body had completely detached; against his will, his arms thrust forward. "H—!"

However, before he could complete the phrase and release his power, the most unexpected thing happened…

…

"Gallic Gun!"

_'What the—?'_ He was overtaken by a massive beam and sent flying back, crashing through the forest as trees snapped beneath him like toothpicks. He grimaced in pain as he smacked into the nearby mountainside, his vision beginning to blur as an aching pain radiated throughout his body. He struggled to get up, but it was all in vain; his body was too weak, exhausted by lack of sleep and proper food, and most of his ki expended earlier. The last thing he saw before going unconscious was a pair of white boots land in front of him, and heard a familiar voice say,

"Enough. We're going home… Gohan."

And then… he knew no more.

* * *

Beep~!

…

Beep~!

…

Beep~!

_'W-what's that noise?'_ Gohan's eyes flickered several times as he began to stir, his mind fighting off the groggy haze, attempting to escape into the conscious world. He wiggled his toes and flexed his fingers, hoping to bring sensation back into his body. _'Where… where am I? And what's that on top of me…?'_

Feeling a small weight across his chest, Gohan weakly lifted his head and looked down, only to come face to face with a slumbering Bulma, a track of dried tears staining her cheeks as she half-lay, half-sat beside him.

"Bulma…?" he muttered quietly, surprised to find her with him. Taking a cursory glance at his surroundings, he found himself in a sterile white room, tucked neatly into a comfortable bed. There was a heart monitor on one side of him, a mess of wires attached to his chest, and a drip-bag on the other, an IV leading to the vein on the knuckle-side of his hand.

_'I'm… at Capsule Corp…' _he deduced, recognizing the room as a part of their medical wing. _'But how?' _

"It's about time you woke up."

Surprised by the unexpected voice, Gohan looked over as Vegeta walked quietly into the room. He was confused by the lack of animosity from the prince; usually greeted by an angry snarl and heated glare, Gohan was instead given a calm, but appraising look.

"The woman has been worried about you," he stated, nodding his head towards his sleeping wife as he crossed his arms and casually leaned back against the wall. "You've been gone a long time."

"How… did I even get here?"

Raising a curious brow, the older Saiyan replied, "You don't remember?"

Scrunching his face in concentration, Gohan thought back on what had happened, scouring his brain for any semblance of familiarity. He was at his house… it was raining… and he had been so angry… his eyes widened. _'Oh no! I blew it up!'_

"Don't worry. Your home is safe," said Vegeta, noticing the troubled expression on the boy's face.

"Huh…? It is? But I was just about to… wait… t-that's right! You stopped me!" He could remember it now; the searing pain as he was blasted off of his feet and the sight of Vegeta's boots before everything went black. What had happened? Why had the prince stepped in? Before he could further question him, however, Bulma began to stir on top of him. She sat up and slowly rubbed her eyes, yawning tiredly as she lazily blinked the sleep from her eyes.

"Mm… what time is—Gohan!" Realizing that he too was up, Bulma launched herself at the boy and threw her arms tightly about his neck. "Y-you… you stupid… _stupid_ child!" she cried, as fresh tears leaked from her eyes.

"Uh… h-hi Bulma," he stuttered nervously, as he gave Vegeta a bewildered look. The prince, however, only shrugged in a way that clearly said, _'Not my problem.'_

Pulling back, Bulma slapped him hard across the face. "Don't you 'hi Bulma' me, mister!" she shouted, her bright blue eyes swimming with emotion as she fought to stay in control. "You can't just disappear like that! No one knew where you were! Vegeta, Piccolo, Krillen… no one could even _sense_ you! I… I-I thought you'd…" Her lip trembled as she thought of what could have happened; releasing him, she instead covered her face and let out a heart-wrenching sob.

Gohan sat, shocked, as he watched Bulma cry.

"Do… d-do you even know… how worried I was!" she choked out, her body quivering with every shaky breathe.

'_Bulma… really cares,_' he thought, genuinely surprised by her reaction. _'I really hurt her by disappearing…'_

"I lost two of my best friends!" she continued, wiping furiously at her eyes. "And… and I thought I had lost you too…! H-how could you do this to me!"

"I-I'm sorry," he apologized, pulling her back into his arms. "I'm… so sorry. I… I wasn't thinking right…"

"Damn straight you weren't!" she shouted, hugging him more tightly; desperately, almost as if believing if she let go, he'd disappear again. "Please, Gohan… _please_… just stay here. With us. I know that… we can never fully replace your mom and dad… but please… at least let us try."

Looking over Bulma's shoulder, Gohan locked eyes with Vegeta, silently asking him what he thought of it all. All he got, however, was a small nod before the older Saiyan turned his head and looked away. Nevertheless, that nod was all the approval he needed, and he hesitantly agreed.

"Okay… I'll stay…" he said, quietly.

Bulma smiled through her tears and sighed in relief, continuing to hug him. As he held her in return, Gohan reached telepathically out to Vegeta.

_'I have to ask… why did you stop me from blowing up my house?'_

It was silent a moment before Vegeta finally replied, _'Years ago, I sat by and watched helplessly as my home was destroyed. I refused to stand by again and watch as you destroyed yours.'_

Gohan smiled softly. Maybe Vegeta wasn't really such a bad guy after all…

… And maybe… just maybe… living here, he could feel like part of family again.

* * *

**A/N:** I know, I know! Bad me! Bad! I know I shouldn't be starting yet another story when I already have two unfinished ones lying around, but I really can't help it. My mind is just an endless vault of imagination and it cannot be contained. However, I have decided that instead of trying to complete each story individually, I'd combine them all into one big story as 'sagas.' I mean, of course it won't be the exact same as "A Rocket to the Moon" and "His Father's Son" but the general themes and stories that I wanted to tell will still get out... just tweaked a bit to fit this AU.

I can guarantee an update ONCE a week. Anything beyond that is extra, and may or may not happen. Depends on my schedule.

For now, enjoy! Review!

- Knight


	2. Chapter 1

**Gohan: A Legacy**

**Chapter 1**

Red lights flashed as the room was submerged in darkness, warning bells ringing loudly for all to hear. Sparks of electricity sizzled along the walls and floor as the white tiles rattled in their places, the sound of mayhem reverberating throughout the area.

Locked in a heated spar, Gohan and Vegeta played a deadly game of cat and mouse; as one pulled away the other would push forward and so on, exchanging blows in one corner of the room before phasing to another and continuing. They struggled slightly under the force of six-hundred G's, but it was not nearly enough to slow them down. Like titans, the two Saiyans clashed; even in base form, they were powerful enough to shatter the sound barrier and booms echoed loudly around them.

"You can do better than this, boy!" taunted Vegeta, nailing Gohan with a right cross to the cheek.

Gritting his teeth in frustration, Gohan replied with an axe kick to the collar, swinging his leg upwards in an arc before slamming it down between the prince's neck and shoulder. He quickly followed up with a double left-jab and would have continued on with a right uppercut, had Vegeta not caught his fist mid-blow. Unable to break free, the young Saiyan was spun around and tossed away like a rag doll, a golden blast of ki thrown at his chest where it exploded on impact.

Despite the burning pain, he remained focused enough to keep a watchful eye on Vegeta, smacking away an oncoming attack and retaliating with one of his own. Jump-kicking him in the torso, Gohan quickly dropped low and swept his leg across Vegeta's, knocking him off balance. Instead of landing on his back, however, the Saiyan allowed himself to fall and caught himself in a handstand, flipping over with his fists raised to continue fighting.

Leaping forward, Gohan dodged and parried Vegeta's attacks, maneuvering himself into a better position. He was smaller, lighter, and faster than the prince, and it would be to his advantage the closer he got. With less room to properly extend his punches, Vegeta would certainly have a harder time of hitting him. However, sensing what the other was hoping of accomplishing, Vegeta increased the strength and speed of his punches, attempting to hold him at bay.

Undeterred by his advances, Gohan continued to block, dodge, and parry his hits, slowly inching closer and closer. When he noticed Vegeta's attacks slip from refined combos to more brawler style hit-or-misses, he knew that he was close enough and quickly switched from defense to offense. As the prince threw his fist forward, hoping to catch him with a power shot, Gohan ducked beneath his arm. With lightning quick speed, he unleashed a flurry of punches at Vegeta's abdomen, pummeling his stomach until a wad of spit flew from his lips.

Reaching up, Gohan then grabbed Vegeta by the straps of his armor and pulled him down, simultaneously bending his leg and kneeing him in the gut. Pushing him back up, he punched him across the face with his right fist before backhanding him into the far wall. Extending an open palm, he finished the assault with a burst of ki, firing off several blasts that ripped and tore at Vegeta's body.

"Is that 'better' enough for you?" he asked, grinning cheekily as Vegeta shakily got back to his feet.

"Hn… don't you have homework or something to do," he muttered, wiping a trail of blood from his lips.

"Nope, I finished everything this morning," answered Gohan, still grinning. "Why… does the old man need a break?"

Growling in annoyance, Vegeta ordered the gravity to return to normal and slowly limped over to the door. "I don't need a break," he said, gruffly. "But I'd rather not have the woman screaming at me for distracting you from your school work."

"Excuses, excuses," said Gohan, smirking, as he followed the older Saiyan out. As they walked out into the hall a small army of service droids rushed into the GR, immediately cleaning and repairing all the damage that had been done. Broken tiles were scraped off and replaced, and the dismembered bodies of several training bots were collected for the scrap pile. One droid vacuumed while another one mopped, and in a short half hour, the room looked as good as new.

Meanwhile, Gohan and Vegeta had made their way to the medical wing, where Bulma had replicated a pair of rejuvenation tanks for their use. While their bloodied and mangled bodies would prove fatal for ordinary humans, they were Saiyans, and considered their injuries only 'minor wounds'. Despite their naturally fast healing capabilities, they knew that walking around as banged up as they were would cause a scene, and so they entered the tanks to speed their recovery.

Securing the oxygen mask firmly over his mouth and nose, Gohan ordered the computer to begin and stared down, and watched intently as crystal blue liquid was released into the tank. As a Saiyan, his heart would forever be set on battle, but the human in him—the curious intellectual—was continually shocked and awed by the advances in science and technology that surrounded him. As difficult as his life had been thus far, he was at least thankful for the educational and academic privileges it had bestowed upon him. After all, what ten year old boy could honestly say that he had been to outer space and was friends with a multitude of alien beings?

Smiling softly to himself at the thought, Gohan closed his eyes and relaxed as he was fully submerged in healing solution. It was warm ad soothing, tingling slightly as the various abrasions on his body were simultaneously cleaned and sealed. Knowing that the process would take about an hour or two, he decided a short nap was in order and slowly allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

* * *

"Gohan, time for supper!"

Rubbing a towel through his damp hair, the young Saiyan approached the intercom and pressed the 'talk' button.

"Okay, I'll be right there!" he replied, heading towards the closet for a fresh set of clothes. The sterile scent of healing solution was often too overwhelming for his sensitive Saiyan nose, so he had taken a quick shower to wash it off. Pulling on a clean gi, he tossed the towel aside and exited his room.

Although separated from the working labs, the residential wing of Capsule Corp. was just as grand as the other buildings. The halls were long and spacious; the pristine white walls decorated with fine art and marble statues lined the way; the floor, a dark mahogany, blanketed by plush rugs of navy blue. Growing up in the country, Gohan was not yet accustomed to such an extravagant lifestyle, but he had slowly come to appreciate the difference between his past life and this new one.

"Hi sweetie, how was training?"

Entering the dining room, Gohan smiled as Bulma greeted him from the table, a baby Trunks squirming in his high-seat beside her.

"Hi Bul—… I mean, hi Mom," he replied, quickly correcting himself at the small frown she had given him. Bulma had done more than just taken him in, taking it a step above and beyond; not only had she legally adopted him, she had done everything in her power to make him a natural part of their family. She had even gone so far as to fake blood tests and to create a 'cover story' for his sudden appearance in their lives.

Her 'excuse' was that he was her eldest, born out of wedlock and sent to live with his father; she was an independent, up-and-coming heiress who could not, at the time, afford to settle down, and the whole ordeal had been secretly hidden from the public. When she and Vegeta 'got back together', resulting in the birth of Trunks and their official marriage, he, Gohan, had been attending a very private boarding school somewhere overseas and only now had decided to continue his education back home.

Personally, he thought it was all a bit extreme, but he appreciated it nonetheless. She had gone out of her way—_far_ out of her way—to include him in the family, and although he missed his parents, he was glad to now be a part of the Briefs. Bulma had taken her role as mother very seriously, always there to offer advice and comfort him, as he was still in the mourning process of his parents' deaths. Even Vegeta had stepped up as a 'father figure', keeping him distracted with training and daily tasks; event he insults had stopped, and he now regarded Gohan with a begrudging sense of respect and familiarity.

"Training went well," said Gohan, as he took a seat beside her. "Though… Father… might say otherwise." He was slowly getting used to calling Bulma and Vegeta by their 'parental names', although calling Bulma 'Mom' came much easier than calling Vegeta 'father'. And of course 'Dad' was a term reserved only for his true father, Son Goku, and would not be used loosely with the prince.

Bulma laughed and shook her head. "Keep it up, sweetie," she said, reaching over to smooth her hand through his hair. "Kami knows that man needs to be knocked down a peg or two."

"I heard that, woman," Vegeta growled, entering the room and taking his own seat at the table. "I am a prince, on the highest peg there is. Knock me down a few and I'm still higher than you all."

His wife snorted and replied, "Prince of what? Three? You and your two sons; what a mighty empire you have, oh great prince," she teased, sticking her tongue out at him.

Grumbling quietly to himself, Vegeta ignored Bulma's teasing and picked up his knife and fork. "Bring in the food already," he grunted, impatiently. Leaning over to press a kiss against his cheek, Bulma smirked victoriously as she called the droids in to serve.

As usual, plate upon plate of entrees and side dishes were brought in; roast chickens the size of turkeys, heavy slabs of pork and beef, enough grilled fish to fill a tank; leafy salads, fluffy white rice, warm beds of noodles… a feast fit for a king—or in this particular case, a Saiyan prince and his two heirs. Gohan and Vegeta barely restrained themselves as Bulma was allowed to grab her share first, as well as make a plate for Trunks, before they were finally allowed to have at it.

Fifteen minutes and several dozen dishes later, their nearly insatiable hunger had been—for the moment—satisfied. With their meal finished and the usual day's tasks taken care of, each member of the family went their separate way to either relax or prepare for bed. Bulma, taking Trunks from his seat, passed him to Vegeta—forcing him to kiss his youngest goodnight—and then Gohan, who tickled his sides and made funny faces at him, before taking him down the hall for a bath. Vegeta, now that the 'pathetic ritual display of affection' was over, took his own leave, no doubt headed to the TV room to watch cage fights on the sports network. Although he would hardly consider it fighting, the prince did enjoy—as he put it—"watching weaklings beat each other up".

As for Gohan, he slowly made his way back to the GR. With Vegeta occupied by the television, he took full advantage of the empty training facilities for a little alone time and self-improvement. Ensuring that the heavy metal door was secured tightly behind him, the young pre-teen burst into the ascended form of Super Saiyan; he then called back his power until he was at the bare minimum to maintain it. When that had happened, he sat down and crossed his legs, placing his hands on his knees and closing his eyes.

"Computer, nine hundred times gravity," he ordered, wincing slightly as he was suddenly slammed down upon by the heavy pressure. With the added weight, Gohan found himself struggling to stay ascended without raising his power further; however, several deep breathes were enough to calm his nerves and he continued to focus on the task at hand.

It had been roughly seven months since the Cell Games, and although he had kept up his training, it was still difficult for him to control his newly found powers. And so, in an effort to change that, he had taken up mediation, hoping that it would quell the arrogant, more barbaric side of him. He had also taken to practicing holding form—as he had done for its pre-cursor—though he only did it at night when no one was around. He feared the consequences of losing control and did not wish to accidentally harm anyone in his more violent state.

When he had grown accustomed to the heavy gravity, Gohan called out the training bots and ordered them to fire lasers at and around him, as well as create large amounts of noise. It would be difficult to meditate with the constant distraction but that was exactly what he was hoping for; he needed to learn to tune out all external sounds and feeling, and to focus more internally on his own emotions and self control.

Slowly but surely, he was beginning to master the second level of Super Saiyan; now able to hold form under normal conditions, he had recently upped the ante and was training himself to control his power in more 'stressful' situations. He grit his teeth in pain as a laser singed his arm and explosives detonated in the background, jarring his concentration; he brushed it aside the best he could and continued on, focusing simply on his breathing and slowly bringing himself into a meditative trance.

Another laser suddenly zapped him in the side and he groaned in annoyance. _'Ugh… this is going to be a long night…'_

* * *

__**A/N:** **If you haven't gotten your flu-shots already... GET IT NOW.** Don't be a procrastinator or smart-ass like me and skip getting one. I figured I didn't need it since I've never gotten the flu before... but as it turns out, I never got it before _because_ I got the shot. Go figure, huh? Miserable... tired... want to die... *rolls self up in blankets like a burrito* Save yourselves...!

Working on the third chapter, so that should be up soon.

As always, please leave reviews! They keep me motivated to write and let me know that I'm actually writing for more than just myself.

- Knight


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